


Not So Callow

by thenakednymph



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Angst and heartbreak, Angst with a Happy Ending, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Lance deserves better, M/M, Polyglot Lance, and i'm SALTY, if VLD won't validate Lance I'll do it myself, klance, smart boi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-24
Updated: 2018-11-24
Packaged: 2019-08-28 15:39:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,556
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16726194
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thenakednymph/pseuds/thenakednymph
Summary: Lance isn't lazy, he's exhausted. Unfortunately it takes two years for Keith to get around to having a much needed heart to heart.~Lance isn't a moron, Keith doesn't do confrontation, and eventually gives Lance the apology he deserves.





	Not So Callow

**Author's Note:**

> This got so away from me. Enjoy. 
> 
> When does this take place? Who knows. Fuck the Canon, time is fluid.
> 
> This makes no sense as it's loosely based on that scene where Lance shows up all glowy to their training exercise in his slippers but also Keith is the black paladin and Lance has a sword. Because fuck it.

Hunk looks up from the counter as the door to the kitchen slides open, a bright smile on his face as he sees the blue turned red paladin. “Hey Lance!”

Lance smiles, the expression chasing the exhaustion from his features before Keith turns around.

“Keith is going to help me with some hand to hand on the training deck,” Hunk goes on. “You wanna come?”

Lance yawns and shuffles over to the counter, a smile still pulling at his mouth. He's already in his pajamas, lion slippers scuffing across the floor as he stops and pours himself a cup of something akin to coffee.

He leans against the counter next to them and offers Hunk a tired smile, cradling the warm mug in his hands.

“Sorry buddy, I'm beat and skin care waits for no man.” He winks over the rim of his cup, taking a slow sip. “I'd join you but I already did my exercise for the day.” The response is flippant, teasing, and Keith scoffs.

“Walking from your room to the kitchen and back doesn't count.”

Lance's lips thin for a brief moment behind his mug at the barb, eyes going flinty but a moment later it's gone.

Lance's posture goes slack and he shrugs lazily, lowering the mug and smiling.

“Well we can't all be you and live on the training deck,” he says, the teasing lilt in his voice not matching his eyes.

He downs what's left of his coffee and sets the mug on the counter, rolling his head to the side, trying to ease the knots there. “I am off to exfoliate, cleanse, and moisturize,” Lance sing songs as he walks past them towards the door. He wiggles his fingers airly over his shoulder as he goes, whistling until the door shuts, cutting off the sound.

Keith rolls his eyes and goes back to his bowl of goo but Hunk is frowning at him in thoughtful contemplation, spoon bouncing rhythmically between his fingers.

Keith scowls at the door Lance just left from, ignorant of Hunk's casual study of him. “Has he always been this lazy?”

Hunk blinks in rapid surprise, startled out of his thoughts. “What?”

Keith gestures at the door with his spoon. “Lance. Was he like this at the Garrison too? He never trains or does anything. Any time I see him he's always just lounging about. Doesn't he ever _do_ anything?”

Hunk turns and looks at the door as if he doesn't understand. Realization seems to dawn on him and he looks at Keith in surprise, glancing between him and the door.

“You don't- oh my God,” he breathes. “You really have no idea.” Hunk's face crumples and he slaps a palm to his forehead. “Oh my god no wonder you guys are always fighting! You actually buy it.” He groans.

Keith’s scowl darkens. “Buy what?”

Hunk leans across the counter into Keith's space. “What do you think Lance does all day?” The intensity of his words has Keith leaning back away from him.

Keith would think Hunk was joking if it weren't for the serious expression on his face, the desperate need for an answer in his eyes.

“Uhhh...I don't know. Naps?”

Hunk's forehead hits the counter with a dull thud and he groans again. His head shoots up a moment later, a red mark in the middle of his forehead, his expression almost pleading.

“Dude. Lance is up every day at 7am Earth time. Or the castle equivalent of it..anyway.” He rolls his hand in the air, dismissing the semantics of telling time in space.

“Every morning he stretches in his room before grabbing some water and a quick snack from the kitchen and heading to the pool. He does an hour of yoga in there before showering and coming to breakfast.

“In the afternoons he does Tai chi or pilates in hydroponics before lunch, says all the plants help him relax but I think he just likes spending time with Pidge and making sure they get some kind of socialization in outside of their lion and a computer screen.” A smile pulls at his mouth. “He keeps saying Pidge should interface with another human from time to time. Don't think they appreciate the joke but they have yet to kick him out.

“After, that he meditates in the observatory or with the mind melding device thingys we use for team bonding.”

Keith stares at Hunk open-mouthed as Hunk's rant lulls for a moment. He takes the opportunity to jump in and make sure they're still talking about the same person. “Are you sure we're talking about the same Lance?” he asks, trying to match up the version of Lance he knows with the one Hunk is telling him about.

“Lance can barely sit still let alone _meditate.”_ He stares at Hunk in confusion, his brows furrowing. “And why is he meditating with the mind meld devices? What is he trying to accomplish?” Keith scoffs like he still doesn't believe it.

Hunk shrugs. “He says he's trying to connect with each of the lions. Can't say whether or not it's working but he's the only one they all let crawl all over them.”

“They do not,” Keith argues because he can't believe it.

Hunk nods sagely. “They do. Sunny loves him.”

“Sunny?” Keith’s face twists at the name and Hunk laughs.

“Lance's nickname for Yellow. Thick as thieves those two, but I think Red is his favorite after Blue. She's a sucker for attention.” Keith just stares at Hunk.

Hunks brows lift in surprise. “Red never told you.”

Keith shakes his head caught somewhere between awe and disbelief. “Remind me to ask,” he mumbles. He wasn't aware he and Red were keeping secrets.

Hunk lifts one shoulder in a shrug and goes on. “Other times he tries to reach out to us with his mind too, see if he can deepen the connection to the other paladin's like Allura and Coran are always talking about,” Hunk says, diverting the conversation.

“Do you think it's working?” Keith asks, twisting his spoon idly in the goo he's supposed to be eating. It's a good idea, especially if there's merit to it. He hadn't thought to try.

Hunk shrugs. “I don't know. Sometimes…” he chews his lip thoughtfully, “sometimes I think I can feel something, like a breeze against my skin but it's in my head and I wonder if it's him, but so far there's no way to prove it and he doesn't really want anyone else to know.” He flicks a look at Keith wondering if he should have told him and then changes the subject again just in case.

“After that he does laps in the pool until it's dinner time. If he gets really bored somewhere between all that and Allura's training _then_ he'll hit the training deck to practice with his bayard.”

“I have never seen Lance on the training deck outside of Allura's team building exercises,” Keith says flatly.

“That's because he's _bored,”_ Hunk shoots back, an edge of venom touching his voice Keith doesn't expect.

Keith makes a face like he doesn't believe it.

“ _Dude_.” Hunk's voice is turning desperate. “Lance can and has shot everything from every angle that room has to offer. You think I'm kidding but I'm not. You have no idea how fucking good Lance is. He's a crack shot with that sniper rifle and there's nothing the simulator has left that challenges him.”

“His hand to hand sucks.”

“Okay, yeah there's that,” Hunk amends, “but my point is, there's a lot going on with Lance that you're clearly not aware of.

“He goes to bed early every night because he's exhausted, mentally and physically, not because he's lazy. Though he's apparently happy to let you think that for whatever reason.” Hunk frowns in disapproval and studies Keith for a moment as if the answer lies on Keith's face. “He takes being a Paladin more seriously than you realize,” he says softly.

“If he could save everyone every time in every battle no matter the cost he would. You think he's never training? Pushing himself to be better? To do better?” Hunk lowers his voice to a whisper, something like fear touching his eyes. “Keith, he never stops.” He takes a shaky breath and leans back, running a hand through his hair.

“He's wound up in a healing pod multiple times with sprained ankles and wrists, nasty bruises from fighting with the gladiator. Busted his knee up pretty bad one time. The kind of bad that would have put him out of commission without a pod.” Something in Keith goes cold.

“Hell, I've caught him running suicides in the halls before when he can't sleep.” Hunk rolls his eyes before shaking his head, his smile falling.

“Lance works harder than anyone I've ever met and somehow in between all of that stuff he's already doing, he manages to make the rounds, checking in to see what we're all doing, to make sure we're all okay every damn day.

“He checks on Pidge to talk about what they're working on, how the search for Matt is going, brings them a snack and talks them into bed more often than not at the end of the day.

“If Pidge could work 24/7 they would. Lance is the only one they listen to.

“He tells at least one joke to Shiro everyday to make him laugh because heaven knows that man needs it.” He fiddles with his spoon and frowns.” It's easy to forget how young he is sometimes. I think Lance helps him remember.” He sighs and puts the spoon down.

“He helps me in the kitchen,” Hunk starts counting on his fingers, “he checks on Coran to see if there's any way he can help with ship repairs, he sits and talks with Allura to see how she's doing.” He leans across the counter again, his face serious. “Did you know she's never cried about losing her entire planet and civilization after we woke her up?” Hunk asks. “Not once.”

Keith hadn't.

Hunk nods as if he knows. “Yeah, that's not healthy.” He sits back in his chair with a sigh. “Girl has got to take time to grieve. Lance is making sure she has a shoulder to lean on when she does.

“He helps me and Pidge run system checks, diagnostics, and repairs on all the Lions since he's the only one they'll all let on board and comes to harass you when you're working yourself into the ground to remind you to take a break.”

Keith blinks in surprise.

Something like fond sadness crosses Hunk's face and his shoulders sag. “You really thought he was just coming around to bother you for fun? He worries about you. About all of us. God he worries about the _mice_ Keith. The mice. That they're getting enough to eat and enough attention and enough sleep. It's the cutest thing I've ever seen.” He sighs tiredly and rubs at his eyes, shaking his head.

“Everything he does and he still feels like it's not enough,” he mutters, “like _he's_ not enough. I don't know how to convince him otherwise.” Hunk shakes his head as if to cut off his rambling, like he hadn't meant to say anything and looks at Keith.

“Look, all I'm saying is maybe cut him some slack? Lance is like a husky. He'd work himself into the ground if it meant everyone else he loves was okay. One of these days he's literally going to work himself to death for us if we let him.” Hunks scoffs. “And then he'll probably apologize for the inconvenience,” he says. A wry smile pulls at his mouth.

“Sometimes I have to remind him it's okay to take a break, but he rarely seems to take his own advice.” He smiles and stands, carrying their dishes over to the sink and rolling up his sleeves, scrubbing at the plates thoughtfully.

“I don't know, maybe it would be different if there was a pole around here somewhere he could spin around on,” he says and Keith audibly chokes, twisting to look at Hunk.

“I beg your pardon?” he coughs.

Hunk looks at Keith in surprise. “I thought everyone knew- Oh, yeah that was after-” He flushes and abruptly snaps his mouth shut, turning back to the dishes.

“In the year before we left on Blue and all this started,” he gestures around the kitchen, throwing soap suds, “Lance took to sneaking out of the Garrison on weekends to go dance at the local club for cash.” Hunk lifts one shoulder. “Not that he needed it but he said he enjoyed getting to dance again.” He grins. “And of course he got off on sneaking out. I swear he's as much of an adrenaline junkie as you are.” He smiles as Keith flushes not sure if the comment is a reprimand.

“You should have seen him dance though,” he says softly. “It was amazing to watch. Like it came as easily to him as breathing, or swimming. He's as comfortable in the air as he is in the water.” He hums thoughtfully, scrubbing slow circles inside Lance's mug he'd left on the counter. “I wonder if we could install one in the castle somewhere,” he says thoughtfully. “Or maybe aerial silks, I know he was dabbling in that briefly but it's been awhile.” He trails off, mulling it over. “Something he could do just for fun. He works too hard.”

Keith's silence has Hunk turning to check on him and the look of utter gobsmacked confusion on his face makes Hunk laugh. It takes him a moment to catch his breath and when he does he smiles fondly at Keith.

“Trust me, there's a lot more going on with Lance than meets the eye,” he says, mirth still playing in his eyes. “He's not as callow as he pretends to be.”

Keith scratches patterns onto the counter with a nail. “He really does all that every day?”

Hunk nods, drying his hands on a towel. “Yeah. And he likes to deflect with humor. If he's making a joke look deeper. He's a talented actor.” He sighs and turns to face Keith. “Look, try not to be too hard on yourself. Lance can be very convincing when he wants to be. He can be hard to read if you don't know what you're looking for but there are tells.”

Keith glances up at Hunk from under his hair, guilt eating at his heart. “Like what?”

“You tell me. You're pretty observant yourself. You'll figure it out.” Keith nods slowly before standing and helping Hunk put the dishes away.

~

Keith never gets the chance. He spends his time not stalking Lance, but observing him. Because casual observation has always been easier for him than confrontation. By the time he’s worked up the courage to confront Lance and apologize for what was an unkind thought, months have passed. They’re actually friends now. The apology doesn't seem quite so important anymore. And then Lance is coming to him with his doubts and insecurities about his place on the team.

Keith has learned through watching that Lance is the farthest thing from replaceable. The team needs him. He’s afraid without Lance they would cease to function. He doubts any of them really know how much they rely on Lance to keep them together. Not that he says that.

Instead he takes the only other option he seems to have at his disposal: the Blade of Marmora. Unlike Lance, Keith has a fallback, he has somewhere else to go. And unlike Lance, the team doesn’t actually need Keith to function.

In spite of Shiro’s prior insistence that Keith lead Voltron, it’s a role that he isn’t suited for. He’s made himself into such a lone wolf for so long that he’s not vital to the team. When a limb is dead you remove it, not let it sit and fester to poison the rest of the body. So Keith leaves.

It’s not the worst thing to ever happen to him. He’s helping people. He has a place now. It isn’t the same, but it’s something.

He finds his mother.

Two years pass and he’s stuck thinking about Lance. About the apology he never got to give him. And suddenly it matters. He sees flashes on the whale of their past, sees all the mistakes he made, all the things he could have done and didn’t. And all he wants to do is go back.

Except it isn’t that easy. When they make it out and Keith is able to contact the castle he doesn’t know how much time has passed. But it seems enough has. He’s spent two years thinking about what he’d say to Lance if he were to see him again and when the ship finally connects to the castle his heart is in his throat. And then it’s in his knees. Because Lance is standing on the bridge with his arms around Allura and Keith’s heart is suddenly in his boots. He doesn’t know why it hurts so much, just that it does. So of course he brushes off Lance when he lands. The mission is more important. And if his heart is broken for reasons he’s afraid to examine too closely it’s no one’s business but his own.

~

Things are strained. Between all of them; Keith and the others. Time hasn’t passed the same for them as it has for him. It turns out to them it’s only been a couple of months. He doesn’t expect things to be much different than they were when he left, but in spite of their decision to support him leaving, another thing that just added credence to his belief they were better off without him, they don’t seem to know how to react to him anymore. There are stilted attempts at conversation, nervous glances from the corners of their eyes. Keith doesn’t know how to make it better. So he resorts to old patterns; he isolates himself. And he waits and he watches.

~

He remembers Hunk’s conversation with him about Lance’s patterns and behavior, none of which seems to change; other than Lance no longer goes out of his way to find him in the training room when he’s overworking himself and he finds he misses it. He feels like he owes Lance more than one apology now; one for thinking him lazy and another for leaving.

So he waits until there's a lull in whatever mad pattern Lance keeps to over the next few days, trying to find a rhythm to it and eventually intercepts him in the hall.

The air between them is strained as Keith marches towards him, squaring his shoulders. Running from his problems hasn’t solved anything yet, so he may as well change tactics.

“Turn around.” He marches towards Lance, miming with his finger for Lance to turn around.

Lance stutters to a stop, a cup of something halfway to his mouth, lips still pursed, blinking dumbly. “Excuse me?” He’s in his regular clothes and there are shadows under his eyes. Keith idly notices he’s gotten taller since Keith left and his hair is starting to curl against his neck.

He tries to stop noticing. “Are you doing anything right now?” Keith asks, answering his own question as he intercepts Lance. “No? Good.” Keith marches up to and right past Lance, catching his wrist and spinning him around, dragging him behind him.

“I heard you were bored with the training simulator.” He lets a taunting note bleed into his voice and feels Lance bristle behind him.

“Little mouse tell you that? They can’t seem to keep their whiskers to themselves,” he grumbles and Keith senses there’s more to the comment than he knows.

“Maybe,” he drawls anyway. “If it’s true though maybe we should try something new.”

Keith feels Lance begin to slow, the steady drag of Lance's wrist in his hand slowing him down. “Unless you're not up for it.” He throws a cocky look over his shoulder and Lance's pout turns into a full blown scowl, his jaw setting with firm determination.

He sticks his nose in the air with a scoff and saunters ahead of Keith. “I'm up for anything _Samurai,”_ he drawls and Keith’s heart skips in his chest. Finally, something familiar. He ducks his head to hide his smile, half in pleasure, half in pride, pleased to know he’d correctly guessed Lance’s reaction. Maybe things haven’t changed quite as much as he’d feared.

He lets go of Lance’s wrist as they reach their destination but Lance turns down the hall in the opposite direction. Keith knows exactly where he's going.

“Hey, where do you think you're going?” he calls anyway, hand on his hip. “Training room is right here.” He points to the doors as if Lance is blind.

Lance looks at him like he's crazy. “Dude, I'm not even in my armor.” He gestures to his loose shirt and jeans. Keith isn’t in his armor either.

“Aw,” Keith pouts, “what's the matter? Not up to the challenge Sharpshooter?” he throws back, falling into the old nicknames Lance had been the first to dig up. He grins tauntingly.

Lance scoffs, raising his mug and taking a sip, all confidence. Keith wonders how much of it is real.

“Joke’s on you, I don't even have my-”

Before he can finish speaking Keith has reached into an inside pocket of his old coat and pulled the red bayard free. Lance's mouth snaps shut.

He narrows his eyes at Keith and jabs a finger in his direction. “If I didn't know any better I'd say you'd planned this.”

Keith grins with his teeth and backs into the training room, wiggling the bayard tauntingly.

Lance follows, scowling over the rim of his cup but there's a spark in his eyes Keith hadn't realized was missing, hadn’t realized he’d missed. It makes his heart race.

He tosses the bayard at Lance who catches it easily with one hand and stifles a yawn behind his fist like it’s easy.

“I'm sorry, am I boring you?” Keith asks as he starts up the training simulator, deliberately trying to needle him.

Lance shifts his weight casually onto one foot but there’s exhaustion in the line of his shoulders. “Only a little bit.”

Keith waits for Lance to meet his gaze before deliberately upping the difficulty level.

“Then I guess we'll just have to up the difficulty to keep you entertained.” He taps the button until Lance begins to look nervous.

His eyes flick between Keith and the panel between them. “Are you trying to get us killed? Because I'm pretty sure the gladiators can do that.”

Keith shrugs, avoiding looking at what level the sim is set to. “Guess you'll just have to watch my back.”

Something flickers in Lance's eyes too rapidly for Keith to catch. He sets his mug aside as Keith comes around to stand in front of Lance without breaking eye contact.

“Think you're up for it?” Keith asks, picking up his own bayard from the console where he’d left it.

Lance is practically vibrating in front of him, his body wound tight with anticipation. His fingers flex around his bayard like he’s eager to start. Keith is feeding on the energy, sending it back to him in an endless loop, rising to the challenge in Lance’s eyes.

Lance leans around Keith without breaking eye contact, invading a little of Keith’s personal space and Keith’s breath comes a little quicker at the proximity. A smile pulls across his mouth as Lance hits the button to manually activate the sim, a wide grin on his face. He looks alive.

“Guess we'll find out.”

~

It's not an apology really, but Keith has always been better with actions than words. He knows they're a good team, wants Lance to know it too, wants him to know how much Keith trusts him, wants Lance to trust him too. He wants that back but doesn’t know if it’s possible. Still, he wants to try.

They're three levels in and both Lance and Keith are covered in sweat, chests heaving, arms and legs like lead. Lance's rifle shakes in his hands but every shot finds its mark and Keith can't help it, he's impressed. It seems impossible for Lance to miss. He'd never noticed before.

They're facing off against the last two gladiators and Keith lunges, missing the heat of Lance against his back. His leg cramps mid lunge and he misses, his sword going wide as the gladiator bears down on him.

“Shield!” He panics as his knees hit the ground, his leg giving out but Lance spins, pivoting around and half over him, his bayard shifting mid-turn. There's a flash of light as Lance's rifle turns into a broadsword and he arcs his arm, severing the gladiator’s head from it's shoulders in one smooth motion. His other arm raised with shield activated to protect Keith from the gladiator at their backs just as it brings it's staff down, the blow nearly knocking Lance to his knees where he stands over Keith.

Sweat drips from Lance’s face, his expression firm and determined, his jaw set even as he pants for breath. He grimaces as the staff comes down on the shield, his legs shaking but he doesn’t go down.

Lance is standing over him like some kind of guardian angel, the light catching across his face and something in the sight makes Keith’s breath catch.

Grinding his teeth through the pain Keith turns to protect Lance, lifting his bayard as the gladiator lunges for his back, driving the blade up and under what would have been a human’s ribs and heart. A moment later the gladiator goes slack and falls to the floor, the sound echoing around the room and leaving them in silence.

Keith flops onto his back, panting in pain and satisfaction, calling out to end the sim. Above him Lance's arms finally go slack as he drops his guard, his wavering legs threatening to give out.

Keith grins up at him, staring at the broadsword in Lance's hand, the way his chest heaves as he pulls in deep breaths, sweat dappling the focused expression on his face as his body goes slack, his head tipping back and exposing his throat. Keith can’t help staring or the praise that slips easily from his lips.

“Stars, you're amazing,” he grins, head falling back to the floor and then bolting upright with a hiss as the cramp in his calf makes itself known again.

Lance hits the floor beside him a moment later, his expression worried. “Shit, what happened? Are you hurt?”

Keith shakes his head, trying to will the pain away. “Muscle cramp,” he grinds out, clutching at his leg.

Lance swats Keith’s hands away and he’s too surprised to argue. He yanks up Keith's pant leg and puts his hands on the twitching muscle of Keith's calf.

Keith yelps, falling back onto the floor and tugging at his hair as Lance digs his fingers into the cramp, trying to work it loose. Keith lets out a string of curses, his back arching off the floor.

“Sorry, sorry,” Lance apologizes, his fingers still working into the muscle and Keith groans, his breaths jagged with pain.

It takes a minute but Lance’s fingers coax the muscle into relaxing, Keith’s body unwinding as the cramp finally releases its hold on him. He falls limp to the floor, his arms hitting the ground with a heavy thump as he pulls a deep breath and groans.

Lance continues to carefully massage Keith's leg, trying to work away how sore the muscle is going to be later. There's a flush on his cheeks but he doesn't stop.

Keith grins up at the ceiling, feeling giddy. “Will you do this with me everyday?” he asks, delighted by the obvious progress Lance has made. He can’t help but wonder if he was this good before Keith left, wishes he’d asked sooner.

Lance snorts. “Massage away your rogue muscle cramps?” he teases and Keith flushes, realizing Lance's hands are still on him.

“Well you are very good at it.” He lifts his head and grins. He can't help it, he'd missed their banter from before he'd left for the Blade, back when they were maybe on equal footing. Then he'd gone and upset the balance, doing what he thought was the right thing, screwing everything up in the process.

Now instead of familiar banter and camaraderie there were barbs he didn't mean and awkward silences. At least there were. Maybe now things would start to go back to normal.

Lance pinches him spitefully and yanks Keith's pant leg back down into place.

“Ow.” Keith rubs at the spot Lance pinched, playing up the imaginary wound and scowling, but he can't quite hide the laughter in his eyes, or the delight.

“You know what I meant.”

Lance shifts into a more comfortable position, chewing at the inside of his cheek and scratching at an imaginary mark on the floor. “I’ll think about it,” he says softly.

And just like that the awkward space between them is back. Keith isn’t sure how to get rid of it but he tries.

“I owe you an apology.”

Lance stretches out beside him, still not meeting Keith’s eyes. The red bayard is still sitting on the ground between them. “You? Apologize?” Lance scoffs but the smile doesn’t reach his eyes. “The world must be ending.”

Keith takes the comment to heart, wrapping his arms across his chest and wincing. “You’re right. I’m not...good at this. I'm sorry.”

Lance frowns, studying Keith's face. “For what?” he finally asks as if he isn’t sure what it is Keith’s apologizing for.

Keith bites his tongue, not wanting to say the unflattering thought he'd had about Lance. It was such a long time ago, maybe he’s wrong to go digging up something that no longer feels relevant.

He takes a breath and sets his jaw. No, he’d made his mind up, he owed Lance and apology.

“I know it was a long time ago, but I used to think you were lazy.” He glances over at Lance from the corner of his eye.

Something in Lance’s face shutters and Keith tries not to wince. “I was wrong. You work harder than anyone else on the team and somehow I never noticed.” He smiles wryly. “I have a habit of being willfully unobservant when I want to.”

Lance ducks his head, looking abashed, a flush high on his cheeks. He sits up and picks at his shoelaces, idly spinning one between his fingers.

“That's not entirely your fault,” he says softly, scratching at the dust caked into the lace. “I didn't want you to know.”

Keith sits up and frowns, wrapping his arms around his knees. “Why?”

Lance shrugs awkwardly and smiles but it’s half-hearted. “It's silly, but I don't really know?” He shrugs again, like he's trying to hide behind his shoulders. Keith idly wonders if he's ever seen Lance stand up straight or if he's always walked the way he's sitting now, sort of hunched in on himself. It's something he'd like to see; Lance walking with real confidence, not the kind he fakes on an apparently daily basis.

Lance chews on his lip while Keith studies him. “I guess part of it was because you make it look so easy.”

Keith blanches and swipes his hair out of his face. He’d forgotten to tie it back. “Excuse me?”

“I told you it was stupid,” Lance reminds him before hiding behind his shoulder again. “You just always seem like you've got everything together, like you always know what you're doing and I don't.” He picks at one of his nails. “I guess it just seemed easier to let you think I was lazy and stupid than to let you know how hard I'm trying and know I'm still failing.” He lifts one shoulder in a half shrug. “That I'm just faking it.”

Keith doesn't know what to do or say to that so he takes a page out of Lance's book for once and goes for drama.

“Oh thank god.” He flops onto the ground dramatically. “I thought I was the only one.”

Lance's face is still red but there's something less broken in his expression.

He tilts his head so he’s staring up at Lance. “I thought you were the one who always had their shit together,” he goes on.

Lance balks. “Me? Are you kidding? I am a walking dumpster fire.”

Keith laughs and Lance's heart flips in his chest. He can't stop staring at the dark splash of Keith's hair against the stark white of the floor, the way his damp shirt clings to his chest, the flush on his cheeks. He's beautiful.

“Pretty sure we’re all just faking it Lance.” His eyes sparkle as he smiles. “Welcome to the scam.” This time when Keith laughs Lance laughs with him and when silence falls after, it’s comfortable for the first time since Keith returned.

“Next time I'm being an asshole just tell me to fuck off,” Keith says. “You don't deserve that.” His fingers twitch against the floor and he reaches to brush them against the bayard.

“You wanna tell me about this?” His voice is soft, his eyes bright with something Lance would almost call pride if it weren’t absurd. No one’s ever looked at him like that.

He pulls his knees to his chest, linking his arms around them and clasping at his wrists.

That...hadn’t been what Keith was expecting.

He sits up and hands the bayard to Lance. “Will you show me?”

Lance stares at him for a moment, like he’s looking for something, Keith just isn’t sure what. Sighing, Lance takes the bayard and finally unfolds from his defensive posture. He closes his eyes and takes a steadying breath. A moment later the bayard activates and the red and white broadsword is sitting stretched across his knees.

Keith stares at it in delight, letting his fingers ghost over the blade. He can’t stop smiling.

“I didn’t know they could do that. I know Allura said they adapt to their wielders but I figured yours would always be a gun of some kind.” He withdraws his hand, disappointed and frustrated when Lance looks less than pleased. He almost looks disappointed and Keith doesn’t understand.

“Hey, why aren’t you more excited about this?” He squeezes Lance’s knee, trying to get a reaction out of him but Lance withdraws from the touch. “Lance this is amazing! Why aren’t you more proud of this? I didn’t even know this was possible.”

Lance collapses the bayard and it clatters to the floor. “Yeah well, you’re the only one who thinks so.” He looks at the far wall, curling into himself again and Keith feels his shoulders sag.

He notes the shadows under Lance’s eyes again, the way he seems to keep to himself more than normal. Something’s wrong.

Keith spins the bayard on the ground, gently spinning it first one way, then another. “What happened?”

“Nothing.” He tries to snatch the bayard away but Keith slides it out of his reach. It’s childish and petty but he can’t help it.

“You’re lying.”

Lance pouts. “Yeah, says who?”

“You hold eye contact when you’re lying.” Keith doesn’t know where the fact comes from or why he’s bothering to say it. He hadn’t meant to. But to his surprise Lance flushes, his brows narrowing.

“What do you want from me?” he snaps, rising to his feet. He flicks his hand and the bayard under Keith’s fist vanishes, reappearing in Lance’s hand and his mouth drops open. He didn’t know they could do that either.

“I want my friend back,” he says, rising slowly to his feet, irritated when Lance scoffs.

“You really think it’s going to be that easy? That after you left us you can just show up again and everything’s going to go back to normal? Newsflash Keith, it doesn’t work like that.” He spins on his heel and marches off, Keith hurrying after him.

“It’s not like any of you stopped me,” he snaps back. “If I remember correctly you were all really supportive of the decision.”

Lance whirls on him. “Like it would have made a difference.” Keith is startled by the rage and betrayal in Lance’s voice. “You’re always running off doing whatever you think is right no matter what anyone has to say or who you leave behind. Do any of us even matter?” Keith doesn’t know whether or not to comment on the unspoken question Lance is asking. _Do I matter?_ He doesn’t know what to say.

At Keith’s silence Lance shakes his head. “Would it have made a difference if I’d asked you to stay?” His tone is biting and something in Keith’s chest squeezes.

“Yes.” He doesn’t mean to say that either but it makes Lance turn to face him again, his expression twisted in frustration.

“Why? No one else seems to care what I think.” He gestures wildly. “No one even listens to me since you left.” He scoffs. “Who knew you of all people were the one who’d listen to me.” He shakes his head and his shoulders sag, tipping his head back to stare at the ceiling. He takes a series of slow deep breaths, closing his eyes briefly before looking back at Keith. “I missed you.” He toes at the floor. “More than I thought I would.”

Keith takes a step towards him, half afraid Lance will bolt again. “What happened when I left? Everything seems different. Like you’re all barely friends now.”

Lance shrugs and walks over to one of the walls, putting his back to it and sliding to the ground. Keith takes it as a good sign and sits across from him again.

“I’m not sure we are,” Lance says. He runs a hand over his face and seems to melt into the wall. He stares at Keith like he’s memorizing his face and Keith struggles not to look away under the weight of it.

“I know things can’t go back to the way they were,” Lance says, “just because you’re back, but I can’t help hoping that somehow that’s all it’ll take.

“I feel like I’m being stupid. Hunk and I are friends but I can’t help but be jealous of what he has with Pidge. I can’t talk technobabble or engineering the way they can. They connect on a level we never will. Shiro is basically your older brother but even he got weird after you left.” He drops his head again. “It’s like I can’t do anything right.” His head tips to the side. “You know Shiro yelled at me?”

“Shiro?” Keith's eyes widen.

Lance nods, an unreadable expression on his face. “Yeah.”

Keith doesn't understand. “Shiro's never raised his voice in his life.”

Lance makes a face. “Tell that to my wounded pride and self-esteem,” he mutters, staring off at the far wall. He can feel Keith studying him.

“Do you know why I left?” he asks suddenly.

“Some convoluted reason you thought justified abandoning us?” Lance still doesn't look at him.

And ouch, that hurts, but Keith thinks it's something he deserves.

“I left for you.”

Lance jerks his head around to stare at him dumbly but Keith doesn't look away.

“Excuse me?”

“The team needs you, more than they know and more than they've ever needed me. You're literally the only thing that holds us all together. I'm not good with people and I'm a shitty leader no matter what Shiro says.” His gaze is heavy and he wants to squirm away from it but can't move.

“You have so much potential Lance, I just wish you could see it.”

Lance flushes all the way down his neck.

“The team could afford to lose me,” he says, smiling softly. “You were right, there were more paladins than lions and I had a fall back that you didn't.

“The team couldn't afford to lose you. You're not worthless or unnecessary or whatever other mean thoughts you have in your head. You're not.”

Lance hangs his head, his hands curling and uncurling against his knees. It takes Keith a minute to realize he's crying.

Lance rests his head in his palm and takes a jagged breath, his shoulders trembling.

“Damn it,” he mutters. “God damn it I'm not supposed to cry in front of you.”

“Why?”

Lance tips his head back against the wall, blinking rapidly. “Because it makes me look weak.”

Keith frowns. “No it doesn't, it makes you look human.”

Lance makes a face at him. “Stop being nice, I'm mad at you.” Keith ducks his head to hide his smile. “Also you're an idiot. You leaving was not the solution I was looking for.” He frowns. “Why didn't you tell me all this instead of running off to join the Blade?” he asks, his voice still thick with tears.

“I'm not as brave as you think I am. It's always easier to run than deal with my feelings. I've never been very good with that.”

Lance's gaze is searching. “What changed?”

“Guess I just came to terms with it.”

“With what?”

“Caring about you.”

Lance flushes again and has no idea what to say.

“I know me coming back doesn't fix anything but I want to try; if you'll let me.”

Lance stares at him trying to process what Keith has said. “I am the world's biggest screw up, why would you want _me_?”

“Isn’t it enough to know that I do?”

Lance shakes his head. “No, because I still think you're screwing with me.”

Keith frowns. “Lance I would never do that.”

Lance pulls a knee to his chest. “Wouldn't be the first time someone has.”

Keith's heart drops into his knees. “I'm sorry.” The thought that someone could do something like that, let alone to someone like Lance leaves rage simmering low in his gut.

Lance nods but doesn't look at him. “Yeah, me too.” He sighs and leans more heavily into the wall.

Keith is still looking at him and Lance can feel the weight of it against his skin. “You're one of the most compassionate people I've ever met,” Keith murmurs. “Even after all you’ve been through you manage to be kind. You wear your heart on your sleeve, battered and bloody and somehow through it all you still manage to love unconditionally.” A warm smile stretches across his face, softening all of his edges and Lance can't breathe.

“You're one of the best pilots to come out of the Garrison no matter what Iverson said. You're adaptable and have a firm sense of justice. You want to help people, it's why you're here in spite of how much you're hurting because it matters to you.

“You're a brilliant strategist and I'm sorry the others haven't been listening to you. Your ideas can sometimes be a little unconventional,” and Lance can hear laughter in his voice, “but nothing about where we are or what we're doing is conventional.”

Lance is staring at Keith stunned, tears in his eyes. His heart is jackhammering in his chest so violently he thinks he can feel himself rocking against the wall.

“I trust and value your opinion and there's no one else I want at my back.”

Lance gapes at him, his eyes wide. “I think I'm in love with you.”

Keith flushes, his mouth snapping shut in surprise.

Lance is still staring at Keith openly, tears sliding down his cheeks.

Keith comes back to himself, searching Lance's eyes before he slowly lifts his hand, reaching out to touch Lance's cheek, giving him time to pull away but he doesn't.

“You deserve better than this,” he says softly and Lance's face crumbles. He curls into himself, pressing against Keith's palm and cries. He never knew kindness could leave him feeling so flayed.

“Come here.” He pulls Lance into a hug and Lance unfolds from his spot against the wall all but sitting in Keith's lap. Keith tucks him against his chest, running his fingers through his hair and holding him and he is _still_ talking.

“You're one of the most versatile members of Voltron and the most amazing marksman I've ever seen. You've shot a moving knife out of the air to save my life. How do you not know how rare and difficult that is? No one in the Blade or the Garrison could ever have done that.”

Lance holds him tighter. He can feel his pulse throbbing in his cheeks. “I get it, okay?” he chokes, “I get it.”

Keith presses a kiss to his hair. “Good. But that doesn't mean I'm going to stop reminding you.” Lance pulls away and Keith smooths his hair back. “Because you deserve to hear it.”

“If you don't shut up I'm going to kiss you,” he says, wiping at his face. “And I'm all kinds of gross right now and no one wants that.”

“You're beautiful.”

Lance flushes, flinty determination in his eyes.

“God damn it Keith,” he grinds out and kisses him.


End file.
